Complimentary
by enlightning
Summary: She is yin, he is yang. They're opposites; dancing in perfect harmony to remain in their spectrum, yet learning from the other, too. They compliment each other. Ten prompts, ten ways to convey "I love you." Mai/Zuko.
1. Nightmare: Sanctuary

**Disclaimer: Avatar isn't mine, okay?**

**Well, shit it's definitely been a while since I lurked here. Hi! The following is a prompt for the lj challenge, 10 I love yous. **

**Prompt: Nightmare  
**

**Revised: 8/12/2012  
**

* * *

"Father, please…"

You're gently pulled out of sleep at the sound that gradually resonates louder in your ears as the whimpers increase. At first, you think you're dreaming. The desperate plea is so soft; you don't even realize it's coming from the body next to you until the blankets are forcibly pulled off you.

You hate the cold, you think blearily, more than a little irritated. Rubbing your eyes, you prepare yourself to yank the blankets off your idiot husband. Who does he think he is, anyway? He can generate his own damn heat.

You're agitated as you turn over, finding Zuko's far proximity odd. Your husband is a closet snuggler, what is he doing all the way over there? You don't usually have to worry about petty things like _being warm _in the _Fire Nation_ _Palace_, sharing your bed with a _firebender_.

Your eyes eventually adjust to the dark room and you see your husband curled up in fetal position at the end of the bed, whimpering and looking nothing like the twenty-year-old Fire Lord he is supposed to be. Immediately, you realize what's occurring.

Oh. _Oh_.

It's not as if you're unaccustomed to the occasional nightmares that plague your husband. After all, it's not like you can blame him.

Tense with concern, you crawl over and gently rouse him, whispering his name. "I am your loyal son…" He mumbles, trailing off. He still manages to sound as terrified as he did when he was thirteen.

You shudder as the memory is brought to the forefront of your mind, biting your lip as you remember the pain it brings. Zuko wasn't the only one scarred on the day he received his scar. You will never forget his screams, begging for forgiveness, then later, mercy. You will never forget the scent of burning flesh and charred skin. Mostly, you'll never forget the cold ruthlessness that overcame Ozai when he was attacking his only son…

Zuko pulls the blanket closer to his person, as if shielding himself from his father's onslaught. He flinches away from your touch; this stings you, slightly. He's about to fall off the bed, you think in the back of your mind.

"Zuko, wake up," you coax. He whimpers; you imagine he's screaming in his mind.

After a few more gentle attempts, you become rougher with your motions, desperately trying to wake him. You're exasperated. You can't handle watching your husband suffer any longer.

"Zuko!" You yell, your voice filling the crevices of the large room, muffled by the tapestries that adorn the walls.

Success, you think as he jerks out of slumber and sits straight up on the bed.

His eyes move wildly as he reaches for the burnt side of his face, sighing in relief when he feels the coarse skin. He seeks solace in old scar tissue rather than singed skin and exposed bone. He takes in a shuddering breath, violently turning his body toward you, seemingly prepared to fight. Then, he sees you. His eyes clear and he's pulled out of the past.

Zuko breaks down all at once.

"Mai," he says, his voice breaking on your name.

You're already gathering him in your arms as he reaches toward you with tears streaking down his face. His arms are tight around you, his face buried in your shoulder.

The position is awkward on your bent legs, but you can't bring yourself to say anything. You pull him down to the bed, his weight pressing down on you.

He's heavy and you're breathless in all the wrong ways, but you don't care. You'll be his sanctuary, protecting him from his mind.

Besides, he'll roll over beside you sooner or later, you reason.

"Mai…" he says again, marginally calmer this time. You notice, you always notice.

You say nothing; words aren't necessary. You convey everything you need to by holding him closer.


	2. Too Much: Fire Lily

**I'm not really happy with how this prompt turned out, so it will probably go under a hell of a lot of revision, but here it is anyway. I still hope you all enjoy it. xD  
**

**Prompt: Too Much  
**

**Revised: 8/12/2012  
**

* * *

The anger is rolling off Mai in waves and her body is so stiff, she nearly shaking as rage consumes her. She can't remember a time where she was as livid as she is right now.

It should be physically impossible to feel so much pure, unadulterated rage toward to woman that gave her life, but Mai finds herself capable of it.

Her face betrays nothing, but the tension in her shoulders is enough to alert the trained eye. Fortunately, no one in her household bothers to pay attention.

Mai briefly wonders if that should bother her as much as it does. She should be used to being overlooked, after all, she thinks sardonically.

Mai shuts her room doors with deliberate slowness. She will suggest to no one the extent of her anger. She will not give her mother the satisfaction of proving that she actually _got to her_. Tense, she makes her way over to her closet, hands itching to break something. In the furthest corner of her room sits a vase of what used to be blossoming fire lilies. Not even a couple of days old, the petals are beginning to wilt without the sun's rays and earth's soil to nourish them. They look sad and withdrawn; Mai finds herself relating to the dying flowers with a scornful smile.

"_You needn't worry about the flowers, Mai. There are many, fire lilies are in abundance in the Fire Nation; too many, in fact. We will replace them once they shrivel." _

Mai ponders her mother's words as she changes into simpler clothing; clothing no one in her family knows she owns. Mai chuckles darkly, they're not even hers; they're Zuko's clothing. She imagines what her mother's reaction would be to such a scandal.

The vase is like her mother, Mai concludes, glaring at what is essentially an elaborate cup. The vase is a pretty little thing housing prettier little things like possessions, keeping the flowers to itself and preventing the them from flourishing and growing. Instead, the vase suffocates the flowers, keeping them restrained. Finally, when the flowers have succumbed to their captor, they are replaced and deemed ugly by her pretentious mother. They are expendable.

Without thinking, Mai strides over to the bedside table where the vase resides. Anger pulsing through her like a heartbeat, Mai forcibly throws the vase against the wall, delighting in how it shatters and crashes to the floor. She hates fire lilies. They're too bright, too vibrant and fall too easily in her mother's smothering grasp. Fire lilies are simply _too much_. They are too much to bear, too much to handle, and too goddamn _weak_.

So much for keeping her composure, she reflects while looking at the shattered porcelain and pathetic looking flowers with water pooling around the scene.

Disregarding the mess, Mai adjusts her over-sized leggings. She momentarily clenches her fists, cracking her knuckles in the process. Breaking the vase hadn't done much to quell the growing anger within her. It still snapped and fought like a beast, itchy to break her cool exterior. Shaking her head, Mai opens the trapdoor in her closet and reaches inside to withdraw the satchel containing her various knives. She begins strapping them to her person, finding comfort in the cool metal pressing against her skin.

Her home also feels like the vase. She feels suffocated.

Mai needs to blow off steam, and resolves that a tree is a better target than her superficial mother.

Or maybe…

The idea is so stupid, she thinks, that it just might work.

Resolving that she has completely lost her mind, Mai takes down her hair, leaving it hanging down her back, intent on leaving it so; however, a glance in her mirror reveals two horrific dents in her hair where her buns were, and she tightly braids the silky strands over her shoulder instead. Mai doesn't want to be recognized if she's caught, and if she is, she doesn't want to look like an asylum escapee. She shudders to think of the consequences that would follow. And of course, she thinks sarcastically, what that would do to her parents' _image_.

Irritated all over again, Mai takes a calming breath before exiting her home through her bedroom window. Light on her toes with the stealth of an assassin, Mai sneaks out of her home like a thief and enters the cool, nighttime air that washes over her like a balm, soothing her nerves. The sky is clear and the stars are shining; the moon casts a tranquil radiance over the courtyard, the muted colours giving the palace a much more inviting feel instead of an intimidating one. Cloaked in darkness, the palace looks quiet. Mai feels her anger dissipating in the palace's serenity at night.

Deciding against returning home, Mai inhales the pure air, reveling in the sensation of cleansing it brings to her soul. She's gotten this far already, she may as well follow through with her plan. Weaving through the royal garden, she stops near a patch of fire lilies, captivated by their understated beauty, so different from the persona they execute during the day.

They look different encompassed by shadows, she determines. A good different. While they thrive with vitality and life in the daytime, they represent something calmer in the night. Subdued by choice, yet still lively as a gentle breeze sweeps over the garden, rustling the petals slightly.

They are beautiful.

Mai bends down to pick a lily for herself, but decides against it, determining that the flower looks better among her sisters. She won't be the one to smother such beauty.

"Do you see something over there?" A low male voice asks, startling Mai out of her reverie. She just manages to prevent herself from crashing into the garden. Her eyes widen in shock and she hears the footsteps approaching her vicinity.

"Trespassers, perhaps? Either that, or an idiot excuse for an assassin."

Well, obviously they're not too worried about assassination attempts if they're still that far away.

The flare of fire illuminating the courtyard was enough to send all sarcastic comments flying out of Mai's mind. She mutters a curse and runs out of there immediately. The last thing she needs is an accusation of treason hanging over her head.

* * *

Before she realizes it, Mai's at the small pond she watched Zuko and the former Fire Lady used to feed the turtle ducks. Slowly, Mai walks over the tree and gingerly sits beneath it, watching the moon's reflection rippling in the water. Closing her eyes, she looks back on her actions that night, ashamed of her behaviour. It's not like Mai to lash out in such a way; she's usually in better control of her emotions.

No wonder her mother is disappointed in her.

Her mother's words echo in her mind: _"you mustn't throw yourself at the prince, Mai. I've heard the rumours of your little exploits. It's classless; you must stay pure if this… tryst with the prince does not work out. We _cannot_ have an impure daughter, Mai; have you any idea of what such accusations could do to your father's reputation?"_

Zuko's return to the Fire Nation had formed a rift between her parents; well, a larger one, perhaps. Upon his return, Mai found herself unable to part with the formerly banished prince, and he felt the same. They were merely making up for lost time.

Mai wonders what her mother meant by trysts. Trysts could mean a lot of things; Zuko and Mai weren't always discrete, after all. She didn't care. She is tired of hiding, but that didn't mean she was going to take her Fire Prince in the middle of the courtyard. Her mother was over reacting.

Much like how Mai did.

Mai sighs. She doesn't want to admit it, but she's afraid to go back.

"Mai, is that you?"

Flinching slightly, Mai wonders how many times she'll be interrupted (startled) tonight. "What are you doing out here, Zuko?" She asks, turning toward him.

"I could ask you the same thing," he's smirking, but his eyes are soft. "Are you okay?" He asks, sitting beside her under the tree. She leans her head on his shoulder and he slings an arm around her.

Mai doesn't answer his question directly. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to spar with me."

"In the middle of the night…"

"Yes."

Realizing she won't clarify, he asks, "why?"

"Don't worry about it," she means it. "I'm going to be okay." _As long as you're here_.

Zuko shifts, confused, but he lets the matter go. As difficult as Mai is to read, her relaxed stance tells him she's being sincere.

Zuko is like a fire lily in the day, Mai realizes as she watches the burning curiosity in his eyes. He's vibrant, high-strung and wears his heart on his sleeve. He radiates life while she is cool and distant. They make quite the match, she realizes. Fire lilies are not weak, they _withstand_, much like Zuko has his entire life. They are loud, boisterous and vivid in even the most unlikely circumstances, whether it's trapped in a tasteless vase, away from their home.

Perhaps fire lilies aren't all bad.

"What _are _you doing out here, Zuko?"

Zuko pauses, "…sometimes when I can't sleep, I come out here – there's something about the palace at night… and it reminds me of my mom," he trails off in a whisper. Mai understands and responds by wrapping an arm around his waist and snuggling into his shoulder. His presence is enough to make her forget about her ill-feelings toward her mother, and more importantly, herself.

Zuko is her sun, Mai decides. While she can create her own foundation and build herself up from the ground, Zuko provides her with the light she needs to bloom. He is Mai's salvation.

"Can we go back to your room?" Mai asks, feeling sleep creeping up on her, drawing her into its sweet clutches.

"Oh?" Zuko replies with that oh-so familiar glint twinkling in his eyes. Mai rolls her eyes.

"I'm already in a huge amount of trouble back home; I might as well make my punishment worth it."


	3. Not Enough: Axis

**This plot bunny hit me like a wrecking ball, aha. This is my first time writing angst, I hope I did okay! Also, I tried writing in past tense. Please tell me if there are any tense issues so I can fix it? I'm actually really happy with how this came out, :D  
**

**Prompt: Not Enough  
**

**Edited: 8/13/2012  
**

* * *

Zuko marveled at the meek little girl swaddled tightly in his arms; his prematurely born daughter. She was pink and blotchy with a light dusting of hair covering her entire body, save for the thick, black thatch of hair that lay atop her head. She was wrinkly and lacking the adorable daintiness Zuko expected in an infant. He could all too clearly see the faint purple-blue, web-like veins beneath her frail skin. Her cries were feeble, but continuous as she curled into Zuko's chest, seeking his warmth. Zuko accidentally jostled her roughly as he tried to comfort her; tried to nurture his daughter, but his mind was elsewhere. He was terrified.

His world was spinning out of control, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Bringing a baby into the world was supposed to be a wonderful experience, his elders had told him. What had he done to deserve this atrocity on his family?

The royal couple were in Ba Sing Se, visiting Iroh and their friends visiting their friends in the city before Mai would be restricted from traveling and admitted to bed rest until her due date. It was an innocent visit. She was eight months into her pregnancy and seemed to be bursting at the seams, yet she still insisted on performing able bodied movements; she would not be bed ridden until she truly had to, swollen ankles be damned.

Disaster had struck before Zuko and Mai had entered the tea shop, before their friends could even get up to greet them. The weather was lovely and death threats had stopped arriving at the palace after the royal guards apprehended infiltrators attempting to assassinate the new Fire Lord and Lady. The men had quickly been put on trial and sentenced appropriately after the guards had extracted what they thought was all the information of the conspiracy.

Lately, things had been calm at the palace. Zuko thought he was finally doing something _right_. The consensus of his people seemed to accept him as Fire Lord and the backlash of rebels had calmed considerably. Cleaning up the after the Hundred Year War had finally been slowing down, although never completely ceasing. Zuko and Mai could finally focus on starting their own family.

With their guards close enough to protect the royal couple while giving them the space and independence they needed, no one could have anticipated the attempt about to be made on the Fire Lady's life.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The assassin's motives were caught by the royal guards; however, in their haste to protect their queen, Mai was knocked to the ground before Zuko could rush to her aid as their friends' happy faces quickly dissolved into those of horror. Zuko was screaming, hysterical as he knelt by her side, scooping her in his arms and holding the shaken woman to his chest. The assassin was caught promptly and efficiently; the poison-tipped knife never managing to leave his hand. There was yelling, commotion as officials tried to make their way to their fallen Lady. Despite the would-be killer being caught, it did nothing to suppress Zuko's and Mai's panic; blood was soaking through the lower half of her clothing. Mai was bleeding and rapidly going into shock.

Katara, a trained midwife courtesy of the teachings of the Northern Water Tribe, had managed to get to the royal couple and quickly and calmly taken control of the situation. Leading Mai, who was sobbing frantically in Zuko's arms, —"_Zuko, Zuko, it's not time; oh Agni, Zuko, please!"—_ to the backroom where Iroh often napped, Katara induced labour and guided Mai, who was vehement in her panic, but co-operative, through the motions of childbirth while Zuko tried and failed to remain calm. Instead, he merely held her hand as she clutched back tenfold. The contractions had been long and for some time, the bleeding didn't seem to stop. Shortly after their daughter's weak cries broke through the tense atmosphere of the small room, she was checked, cleaned and cast off to her father's arms so Katara could tend to Mai's rapidly deteriorating condition. Zuko was sent out with his daughter, despite fighting tooth and nail to stay by his wife's side in her time of need.

Katara, who was quickly losing patience whipped around to scream at Zuko, who balked at the cold rage pulsating in her equally cold eyes. "_Zuko!_" She screeched. "You are _wasting_ time I could be using to save Mai's life, so _take your daughter and get out of my room!" _Breathing heavily, she checked on the wailing infant before leaving Zuko in his stupor outside the small room. Frankly, having Zuko succumb to hysterics would only frustrate Mai and wasn't going to help the situation.

Despite Zuko desperately fighting to stay by his wife's side, Katara reminded Zuko that he needed to take care of their daughter; for both their sakes.

Zuko paced. He paced for what seemed like hours with his fragile daughter in his hands. The tea shop had been cleared out except for his close friends and his uncle. Everyone tried to soothe him, but to no avail. Nothing could calm a man about to lose his wife after nearly losing their child.

Eventually, they reverted to watching to broken man try to erode the ground beneath him.

His daughter's, still unnamed, whimpers brought him back to the present. She gazed imploringly up at her father with the palest gold eyes; her small, small hands wrapped around his finger. Zuko felt himself falling in love. The logical side of his brain reasoned that she couldn't possibly understand what was going on, but the look spoke to Zuko. This little girl wanted her mother.

He could relate.

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he whispered, "don't worry. You'll see your mother soon," he paused; then, "…sweetheart," he tagged on after a beat, the endearment rolling awkwardly off his tongue. It was difficult to say who she favoured more, but Zuko always secretly hoped she resembled Mai, loving the idea of a small girl with red ribbons and impossibly straight hair running throughout the courtyard. Zuko wanted to share that fantasy with his wife.

She blinked, her cries finally slowing down. Soon, a small yawn escaped from her before she began fussing in his arms. She was so incredibly tiny, almost pathetic looking, Zuko fathomed. She was so fragile and needed the protection of _both_ her parents, not just him! He was too volatile, too hotheaded; how could he—

The girl wiggled in her swaddle, freeing a twiggy arm to wave a fist in Zuko's general direction. He just managed to stop himself from hyperventilating.

Zuko held his daughter closer, stroking a flushed cheek with his index finger. He started telling her about Mai, as distraction from his pessimistic thoughts. Additionally, the sound of his voice seemed to pacify her further. He hoped she recognized it on some level, he did spend most of Mai's pregnancy speaking to her through the womb, after all.

"Your mother was afraid, you know. Not of you, but of being a mom, I mean. Kind of like me. But, uh —of being a father. I don't ever want you to feel how I did when I was growing up. We want you to have the best childhood, filled with love and affection and happiness—" Zuko choked up.

"You'll see her soon; Mai –your mom– promised that _we_ would give you the best childhood. Not just me or her. We made a commitment, dammit," his head was bent over her, and he sank into the chair beside him, gently touching the soft hair adorning his daughter's head.

"Your mother is honourable; she always keeps her promises," tears were falling, "she won't leave me. Us." His voice trailed off into a whisper.

Zuko had managed to keep the tears at bay while he watched his wife hit the ground, though they were clearly in his eyes. He could feel himself breaking. He couldn't deal with this.

"Uncle," he choked out, his voice breaking. His arms were trembling and he immediately feared dropping the precious girl they worked so hard to save. He couldn't stand to lose the little girl who was quickly taking up space in his heart, nestled right next to Mai. Mai, who was fighting for her life_ right now_—

Iroh was at his side in seconds, taking the infant from his arms before Zuko buried his face in his hands and sobbed. "Zuko, you mustn't worry. Mai is strong; she will overcome this," He said gently.

"But what if she _doesn't_? What am I supposed to _do_ without—" he broke off, unable to complete the thought.

"It will do no good to think like that, Zuko. We will cross that bridge if it comes,"

But Zuko couldn't help but think like that.

He had realized. If Zuko lost Mai, it wouldn't be enough – he wouldn't be enough for their daughter. They both needed to be there for her; nurture her, watch her grow.

He _could not_ do this alone.

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, Katara finally emerged from the room, looking thoroughly spent and quite bedraggled herself, save for the small smile that graced her lips that seemed to illuminate Zuko's world. She sought Zuko out, though he was already piercing her with his hopeful eyes.

He looked like a wreck; his hair was disheveled from grasping at it so often and his eyes were red from crying and frequent rubbing. His clothing was rumpled and he clutched his swaddled baby girl to him tentatively, as if seeking comfort from her, but wary of breaking her.

Thankfully, she had good news. "Zuko, you can come in now. Mai's fine; tired, but fine." But he was already up and moving.

"She's really okay?" He inquired optimistically, unconsciously rocking his child who began whimpering. He took to fatherhood well, Katara thought kindly.

"Yes, come; she's asking for you. She needs rest, though, so don't be too... pushy."

"I am _not_ pushy."

Katara waited outside while Zuko strode in, mindful of the bundle in his arms.

The room was tiny and the bed Mai was lying on didn't look all too comfortable. Surely, Mai would be complaining about it by now, right?

But instead, she was eying her husband softly, a gentle look in her eyes. "Zuko," she said, just as soft. She sounded impossibly tired and looked it, too, but, she was alive, and that's all Zuko needed. His world, previously spun off its axis, righted itself once more.

He was by her side in seconds. "Mai… Mai, I was so scared," the tears were flowing again as he neared her, dipping down beside her, still cautious of his —their— squirming daughter.

"Shh," she hushed, "if that's how you expect me to go, then you've severely underestimated me," her voice held no sarcasm as she reached out to stroke his cheek. Zuko found himself chuckling despite himself.

"Yeah, I suppose I did," he whispered.

Mai pulled him down for a long kiss that expressed everything they felt; the fear, the anguish, and now, the happiness.

"You didn't have to worry so much; I made you a promise, didn't I?" She chided gently, her forehead pressed against his.

"I always worry about you,"

Mai gave a long suffering sigh. "That's because you're an idiot. Now, let me see my daughter," she demanded, snippets of her personality peeking through. Zuko was thrilled. "Yes, yes, of course! She's beautiful, Mai," he said, waiting for her to sit up on the bed before handing the baby to her. She winced, her tired body tensing in protest as she worked her aching muscles. Zuko was attentive as ever.

"You're in pain," he whispered, gingerly touching her cheek. Mai rolled her eyes and forced herself up. "Did you honestly expect anything else?"

Ignoring her weak sarcasm with a gentle smile, he placed the whimpering girl in Mai's awaiting arms. Her eyes watered as she took the infant. Stroking her small cheek, she cooed at her. "She's okay…" Mai trailed off, her voice thick with awe as pale gold eyes gazed aimlessly up at her, but seemed to search her soul all the same. "...and tiny," she wondered. Suddenly, she looked to Zuko worried, "is she going to be—"

Zuko cut her off, wanting to quell her fear; "yeah, small, but she'll be okay. Uncle says I was born early, too, earlier than her."

"Not under the same circumstances, I hope." Mai quipped. "We haven't even chosen a name for her yet."

Zuko sighed and climbed into the bed to be closer to his wife. The bed protested under their combined weight, but Zuko rationalized that if it could hold uncle Iroh, it could hold Zuko and Mai's combined weight. She moved over gingerly, making room for him as he put an arm around her and held her to his side. He looked down at his —their— daughter, who was finally asleep after a crying fit that was enough to send Zuko back into a panic at the time.

He smiled and kissed Mai's head, "we have time for that, Mai. Everything is going to be okay."


	4. Dream: Retrospect

**Annnnnnd this is the prompt that caused the rating to change. Warning, lemon ahead. Is that term even used in fandom anymore?  
**

**Oh, previous chapters have been edited with some new information added that I think make it better. Check it out of you want!  
**

**Currently unedited. It will be edited when I stop reading this like how I know it should be. XD  
**

**Prompt: Dream  
**

* * *

"Is everything alright?" Mai asks, coming up behind Zuko on her balcony, the darkness of the night encompassing the pair like a blanket; shielding them from the truth they're both subconsciously aware of, but are unwilling to accept.

He's been stressed lately; withdrawn and ominous. Mai won't voice it outright, but she's afraid. _What is he planning?_

He's startled by her question, and jumps around to look at her. She's reminded of a startled animal and the haunted look in his eyes horrifies her, but still, she goes to him.

He walks toward her, his stare imploring her, piercing her soul and looking right through her. She's freshly bathed and dressed in her sleeping robes with her hair undone, the warm summer breeze manipulating strands of fine black hair to dance around her face. Mai is holding her robes to her body, the silken sleeves falling down her forearm like a whisper while the other stays motionless at her side.

She looks afraid, and her eyes speak volumes. The guilt racks Zuko's form as he presses his lips to her forehead, his hand holding the back of her head.

"It will be," he rasps, his other hand grasping her hip. His lips move down the left side of her face with an unexplained urgency, and he claims her lips with the desperation of a dying man taking his last breath.

* * *

Leaving Mai behind was one of the more difficult decisions he had to make after resolving to join to Avatar.

Zuko wrote Mai a letter explaining his departure from the Fire Nation as a traitor because he knew that if he did it face to face, he wouldn't have been able to leave her behind. He knew that there would have been a fight and harsh words strewn haphazardly and unthinkingly.

Perhaps it was selfish, but he didn't want his last good memory of Mai to be one shadowed with anger and tinted with hate. Maybe it was weakness, but he refused to watch Mai's heart shatter before his eyes. Her pain was his pain.

Everyone would deny it, reassuring that he was strong and brave for going against his country – his father, but that didn't make him feel better.

Despite his valor, Zuko felt like a coward.

So, when Sokka asked him if he left behind anyone he cared about, he immediately thought of Mai, with her expressive eyes and gentle smile, reserved only for him.

He felt the dopey smile etching on his face before he could stop it. "Well… I did have a girlfriend."

* * *

Despite her efforts, Mai feels the tears welling in her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall, and instead, savours the moment. Her hands go around his neck, grasping the base of his hair in her fist and placing the other on his shoulder. She feels the heat spreading throughout her body; some of it hers, some of it Zuko's.

Gently, Zuko guides Mai backward, intending to lead her to bed where they spent so much time learning each other's bodies.

However, he miscalculates and Mai's back hits the door. Not expecting the impact, Mai takes a sharp breath, looking up into his now bashful eyes, a blush overtaking his face for much different reasons. Mai grins. Whatever is bothering hasn't taken her Zuko away from her yet.

"S-sorry," he whispers awkwardly, then silences any reply she had with another kiss, pushing her against the door as he presses his body closer to hers.

It's as if he can't get close enough to her, Mai notes, comforted by his weight. Shaking off the unsettling feeling coursing through her being, Mai forces a breathless chuckle and kisses him back with just as much vigor.

"Dork," she smirks after catching her breath. She guides him back to the large bed that awaits them for the last time.

* * *

_Dear Mai,_

In retrospect, Mai really should have seen this coming. In fact, she did see it; she just refused to accept it. At least, that's what she told herself.

Her gaze darkened, clouding with tears as she re-read the letter for the thousandth time. The tears she was trying to keep at bay finally fell, and once they started, they didn't stop. Her chest tightened and she collapsed to the floor, sobs shaking her shoulders as she allowed herself to break for the first and last time.

_I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but, _

Mai took this opportunity to break, well aware that another would not be given to her. She wouldn't be permitted to cry after this, not with Azula breathing down her neck.

Tears streaked down her cheeks, makeup running and eyes swollen with tears. Her shoulders heaved with her cries, her entire being consumed by grief.

Then, slowly but gradually, anger began to take over, tightening in her chest like a vice and spreading throughout her system like poison.

He couldn't even dignify this heart-break by confronting her.

"You _bastard_," she gasped, lips curling into a snarl.

He didn't even give her the choice to join him. Steadily, the tears continue to fall.

_I'm leaving._

The bluntness hurt, but what else could she have expected? Eloquence was never the idiot's strong suit.

* * *

Having removed his clothing on the way to the bed with Mai's help, Zuko clumsily unties her robe. He fumbles with the sash, a habit they both thought had been broken long ago, back when love was new and touch was foreign. Zuko frees her from the robes' confines, allowing it to fall delicately open and expose her smooth, pale skin. He takes the opportunity to look at her, drinking in the sight her naked body before settling on her light gold eyes, trying to establish all the love he feels for her in that moment, as if proving to her he does love her.

He's already made his decision.

Slightly deterred by his longing gaze, Mai pulls him down for a long kiss, their lips moving together in sensuous harmony. Pulling away for a moment, Zuko looks at Mai's flushed face. His lips move, but no words come out. Instead, he places wet kisses along the column of her neck than continue to make a fool of himself. He reaches her ear, whispering her name in her ear before taking the delicate lobe between his lips.

Mai trails her hands up and down his muscled back, her nails lightly grazing the pale skin. She feels him shiver over her, though his temperature is rising; Mai fans his inner flames, allowing them to lick the surface of his skin, trying to break free. He retains enough control to prevent himself from hurting her.

The air around them cracks with intensity as their mouths begin to move faster, almost rough as their tongues slide against each other.

Mai is the one to break free with a gasp. She doesn't notice Zuko raising himself a touch to stroke Mai's most sensitive and private region with nimble, calloused fingers; he delves into a place she's only ever touched herself before Zuko's return.

His names fall from her lips as a plea for more, and she allows herself to lose herself in his arms.

* * *

Zuko dreamt of Mai every night, especially in the Western Air Temple.

His dreams were vivid always centred on the knife-thrower. Sometimes, they were good dreams; where the Avatar won and Mai welcomes him back with open arms and a smile on her face.

Unfortunately, those were few and far in between.

Rolling out of the rumpled bed the water tribe peas— boy had assigned to him, Zuko deposited his damp sheets on the floor before crawling back onto the thin mattress, breathless and in need of release.

Sometimes, he dreamt of the Avatar losing. In those dreams, Mai always visits him in his prison cell, before he is to be executed. She only comes to tell him he's worthless and that she always knew his attempts to do what was right were futile; that she never had faith in him as a person at all.

She's always accompanied by Azula in these dreams, taunting him; breaking him all over again and reminding him that he _is _a coward and that he is nothing; worthless.

Zuko hated those dreams. He had not bothered to pray since he was a child, not since his mother vanished. He didn't care enough about the existence of Agni. If he existed, Zuko resolved, he apparently didn't care about him, anyway.

However, when the nightmares plagued him, he prayed for them not to come true; he prayed for the Avatar to prevail, for Mai to forgive him one day…

Zuko groaned, throwing his forearm over his forehead trying to ignore the throbbing erection straining against his tunic, silently willing it to go away.

The dreams that overwhelmed him most often were memories of the intimate moments he had with her. Those instants were when he truly felt closest to her. Zuko didn't just miss her body; he missed the understanding that came with the closeness. He missed her touch, her snarky remarks, the way she didn't take any of his touchiness and high-strung outbursts.

She calmed him, drew out the good in him and pushed him to do better. She made him a better person.

With another groan, one of grudging acceptance this time, Zuko slipped his hand beneath his tunic, grasping the hardness with a practiced hand a clenched jaw.

* * *

Mai's first orgasm comes quick and hard, each wave of pleasure crashing through her system as the coil releases.

She's light-headed and breathing heavily by time Zuko's smirking face, full of masculine pride, comes back into view, now sitting back on his knees with her legs around his hips. The smug look irritates her something fierce; she _needs_ to wipe it off his face and put the idiot in his place.

So she does.

The smirk morphs into an expression of lewd glee as she sits up, wrapping her hand around his member, stroking in the way she knows he likes.

She can feel the heat radiating off him; intimidating, but not enough to frighten her. She's used to this. The candles in the far corner of her room react to Zuko's growing arousal, the flicker and thrive with vivacity as he nears his peak, growing larger and flaring unexpectedly with each twist Mai makes, each sharp intake of breath Zuko takes.

Right when he's about to finish, he yanks her hand away from him, and pushes Mai back on her back. He rests his head on her shoulder, gasping for breath as he tries to take control over his body. Mai runs her fingers through his hair as he finds some semblance of composure.

Eventually, he murmurs in her ear, "that's not how I want to finish."

Mai barely has time to react before he guides his member inside her, slipping in easily without restraint.

It's not like she would have stopped him, anyway.

* * *

Seeing Zuko clad in Fire Nation prison attire in the Boiling Rock wasn't that much different from seeing him for the first time after his banishment.

Of course, the hurt fueled rage coursing through her system replaced what was once hopeful longing, but other than that, nothing changed. She wanted an explanation, and she _would_ get one.

Mai can hear him yelling in the other room. "I didn't _do _anything!"

The sound of his voice hurts her more than she anticipated. She knew she missed him, but to be this close without him being _hers_…

She shook that thought off; it was his fault, anyway.

"Come on, Zuko, we all know that's a lie." All those years of schooling her expression into one of passive nonchalance were finally being put to use. She wouldn't allow him to see the damage he caused her.

However, Zuko fails to hide the stricken look in his eyes, that same desperate yearning that she's been feeling for so damn _long_, when he realizes it's not the warden that wants him.

It's, "Mai."

The way he slumped when she entered the room gives Mai a small sense of satisfaction. He looked terrified. Good, he should be.

He started spouting garbage, asking how she knew where he was. She humoured him.

"Because I know you _so_ well." His eyes widened as he spluttered, "but how—"

"My uncle's the warden, you idiot." Mai was tired of his nonsense. Surely he was being deliberately stupid just to anger her further. She's annoyed that he took the bait so easily, ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind that reminded her she was being unfair, that he should explain himself.

Her eyes flashed as she whipped around to glare at him, "I guess I don't know you. All I get is a _letter_? You could have at least looked me in the eye when you ripped out my heart."

The words hit their mark, and he frantically stumbles for an explanation, "I didn't mean to—" she cuts him off angrily.

Who the _hell_ does he think he is?

"You didn't _mean_ to?" She asked, her cold fury piercing him like a knife. She pulled out the tear-stained letter to hide her face. She didn't need to read it; she had it memorized by now. "_Dear Mai, I'm sorry that you have to find out this way, but I'm leaving_." The venom was subtle, but it was there.

Zuko was tired of being walked on and desperate to subdue her resentment. He couldn't stand her hating him.

"Stop! This isn't about you. It's about the Fire Nation!"

Was he _trying_ to enrage her further? "Thanks, Zuko, that makes me feel _all_ better." She smacked him in the head with the letter. He stood up to look her in the eye, finally.

"Mai," he pleaded, not in the way she was used to hearing, "I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to do this to save my country. Our country."

He was begging for her to understand him. He's never had to do that before, Mai _always_ understands, even when he's being an idiot. She had to believe him.

"Saving it?" You're betraying your country!" He knew what she was doing. She was challenging him, making him reconsider, as if he hadn't already done that several times over.

Why couldn't she understand that leaving her was the most difficult part about abandoning his country? That she was the only tie he had to the Fire Nation?

But he had to do what was right. Mai would appreciate it in the long run. He was doing what was best for their country.

He had to convince her somehow. "That's not how I see it."

She glared at him before crossing her arms, not even gracing him with her stare. Zuko sighed. Wasn't Mai supposed to be the logical one?

"Mai, please understand," he whispered, moving to cup her face in his hands. She wrenched away from him, but he was relentless. He softly gathered her in his arms, giving her room to remove herself if she pleased.

She didn't hold him back, but she didn't throw him off her against the opposite wall, either. He took that as a good sign. Slowly pushing her against the wall, he begged for her to understand, to hear him out. "Please, I have to do what's right, Mai… the Fire Nation… we've ruined so much… I have to fix it, I can't let this imbalance continue. Please, please trust me," he muttered, holding her close to him.

She missed his warmth so much, but she didn't dare hold him back. She would not be weak.

He had _hurt her_, dammit.

But he was asking him to trust her, and Mai couldn't help it. Of _course_ she trusted him.

Mai didn't care what was wrong or right, but she would stay by his side and protect him and his decisions, whether he wanted it or not.

Sighing in resignation, she slumped on him tensely, resting her head on his shoulder, but not allowing herself to get too comfortable. He still broke her heart, after all.

Zuko had made his decision, now she was making hers.

* * *

Zuko is still against her as she squirms beneath him, aching for him to move and release the tension building in her belly. The candles are blazing as he tries to maintain control, but it's difficult with Mai's wet heat clenching tightly around him.

He knows this will be last time, he wants to savor this moment with her.

Raising himself up on his forearms, he watches the light blush that dawns her face and upper body, identical to the one covering his own. Her face is damp with sweat and her hair is sticking to her forehead. Wiping it out of the way, he coaxes her into looking at him before he begins moving within her, rubbing against her inner most walls.

"Look at me," he whispers, pressing his forehead against hers. Her glazed eyes snap to his, pupils dilating as the focus on his face. In this moment, he sees everything.

In her gaze, Zuko sees love, trust and companionship. He sees his dearest friend and closest ally. He sees her love and never wants to break this connection, much less let her go.

She chokes out his name, silently asking him to go faster as her release nears. Zuko denies her, continuing to thrust at a slow pace and relishing in just being with her.

He holds her as close to him as possible, the heat from his body on the edge of becoming uncomfortable for them both, but balancing on that thin line. His hips roll into hers and he feels her tensing up, telltale signs of her release.

Feeling his own coming soon, Zuko urges Mai along by reaching down to the apex of her thighs and searching for that one spot that makes her—

"_Zuko!_"

Her entire body goes rigid around him as the ecstasy rolls over her in sensual waves, drawing out her pleasure as she bats his hand away from her, far too sensitive and becoming overcharged with his touch. Zuko uses this to trigger his orgasm.

The candles come alive as Zuko empties himself into Mai, each wave bringing a new sensation of want until the muscle that forces it cramps and he falls over her, sweat coating both their bodies as they quiver in each others' arms.

Back to reality, Mai becomes vaguely aware of Zuko whispering in her ear.

"…ve you, I love you, I love you…" His voice is thick with tears? They rarely verbally express their love. This is odd. Something's wrong, Mai concludes.

Confused, Mai lifts his face to look him in the eye, correct in her assumption. She wipes his tears away and looks questioningly into his eyes, resisting the urge to sleep.

She just wants to cuddle and he's being… not Zuko.

What's going on?

"Zuko, I love you, you know that," Mai trails off. He smiles sadly, closing his eyes as he extracts his himself from her, rolling off Mai's body and pulling her to rest under his chin against his shoulder. She rests her head against him comfortably while pulling up the thin red sheet to cover them.

"I know," he whispers. "I just needed to hear you say it."

* * *

"Who's that?" Sokka inquired, straining his eyes to catch a glimpse of their savior.

Zuko took one look and immediately knew who was taking down several trained prions guards single-handed.

"It's Mai!" He said, shocked.

Mai had reactivated the gondola, assuring Zuko's safety. Zuko has mixed feelings about this development.

Pride and anger warred within him. What in the _hell_ was she _doing_?

He left her to protect her, so he wouldn't force her into becoming a traitor. He wanted to save her from the repercussions of that would no doubt occur after betraying her country.

She wasn't supposed to get tangled in his traitorous life! Especially when there was no chance of escaping the Fire Nation after such a display!

He heard Azula's cold voice mirror his thoughts before real fear started to settle. "What is she _doing?_" He heard her demand, her voice fading as the gondola left in the opposite direction.

Mai had betrayed Azula. She betrayed Azula for _him_. Azula would be furious. He was certain she would kill Mai. Or at least attempt to. As adept as the knife thrower was, she didn't stand a chance against a raging Azula.

Paralyzed, Zuko numbly added another item to his accumulating list of failures.

He had failed to protect the one person that mattered.

* * *

Although he usually stays for breakfast after he spends the night before returning to the palace, Mai isn't surprised to see Zuko gone the next morning.

It's the day of the invasion, she reasons with herself. Obviously, he's going to take cover.

But something tells her otherwise. As hard as she tries to ignore it, she knows to some degree that Zuko is going to do something stupid.

He isn't coming home.

* * *

After their return from the Boiling Rock, a new dream afflicted Zuko.

More often than not, he would get vivid images of Mai's dead body lying on the floor, scorched by the hand of Azula. If she wasn't being burnt alive, Zuko saw her at the hands of his father, sentenced to hang for treason because _banishment was far too merciful._

As each option raced through his mind, all ending with Mai's crumpled body on the floor or ground or wherever, Zuko scrubbed the tears away from his face, praying that Mai was safe, that she knew what he was doing.

He began to take solace in the good dreams he had of their time together. He only wanted to dream of a time untainted by war and devastation.


	5. Complicated: Recollect

**This is a direct companion piece to Dream. Enjoy! I might combine the two and post it as a one-shot, like I originally intended it to be. I don't know yet. XD  
**

**Currently unedited.  
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**Prompt: Complicated  
**

* * *

After being unceremoniously thrown in prison after betraying Azula, the Fire Nation and the damned Fire Lord himself, Mai stopped to reconsider her actions.

Well, not reconsider, there wasn't much she could do now, she thought picking at a loose thread on her prison uniform. She yanked it out, and promptly unraveled more of her uniform in the process. She rolled her eyes.

Mai thought about Zuko in a different light. Her mother always said that a woman must be stronger than any man she spends time with because _'men are selfish creatures who think their problems are the centre of the universe.'_ As a woman, her mother taught her that she must take on his problems as her own and support him through it all, essentially become his constant. Mai saw it more as becoming something akin to a battering ram.

Initially, Mai rejected this way of thinking. She wasn't merely a rock. She wanted to be more than that.

However, those thoughts began to change as she contemplated Zuko.

Even though she and Zuko weren't married, Mai was positive that this was the most self-sacrificing act anyone could do for their loved one, besides actually _dying_ for them, which, in Mai's opinion, was a stupid notion.

_As if I would allow any situation to escalate to a life or death matter._ She liked to think she was a little craftier than that.

However, in her haste to save her idiotic boy— _ex_-boyfriend, she had accepted death as a possibility. More than a possibility, really. She knew all too well that if Ty Lee had not intervened, Azula would have burnt her to a crisp without a second thought.

She was also aware that without her uncle's influence, she would have been directly sent for trial where she would undoubtedly receive a death sentence.

Lying down on the pathetic excuse for a mattress, Mai scrutinized the dank gray walls around her. She briefly wondered if they reflected her aura. Her hands itched to fidget with something. The guards had taken her knives; she felt naked without them.

She wondered if Ty Lee was okay. The girl could barely stand in one place for too long, how was she going to adapt to a high security Fire Nation prison?

Mai forced down the guilt, it would do no good at this point. What was done was done.

Her thoughts drifted back to Zuko, and she considered her reasons for abandoning her life to ensure his safety.

He tore her heart out through a _letter_ and gave her an even worse explanation when later confronted.

_So, why did I do it?_

Mai sighed. Because despite all his wrong-doings, she loved Zuko; she trusted him above all else, and if he felt he was doing the right thing, then it had to be right for her, too. In the long run, at least, she reasoned.

Though the long run appeared to be cold and gray at the moment, she sincerely hoped that Zuko knew what he was doing; otherwise she'd kill him herself if she ever saw him again.

On top of that, Zuko had experience the harsh reality more thoroughly than she ever would. He had seen the best and worst of the world, beginning with the Fire Nation and extending throughout the vast Earth Kingdom. From what he had confided in her, Zuko believed the Fire Nation wasn't the great country the corrupt education system's twisted version of history lead young, impressionable students to believe from a young age.

While Zuko was battling against his inner turmoil, Mai had been dealing with her own. Trying to shake off what she now _thought _was years of blatant propaganda had Mai grasping at what little sanity she had left. What else was wrong in her world?

She needed her own rock, she couldn't handle Zuko's problems _and_ her own.

Mai sighed and rolled over on her side, facing the wall with her back to the door. Azula's condescending tone slipped through her mind, _"you shouldn't sleep that way, you know. A warrior must always be prepared." _

Mai closed her eyes and took in a breath that rattled her chest. She tried to sleep. It had been a long day.

She hoped she dreamt of Zuko; of a time where things weren't so complicated. She wanted to take pleasure in the silly things; when it was just her and Zuko watching the stupid orange sunset together, just _being_ without a worry in the world.

She just wanted to go back.


	6. Passion: Vows

**Whelp, school started and is already sucking up all of my time, but I still managed to crank this one out! The ending is a little rough, so sorry in advance.  
**

**This takes place in a modern AU. Like, today-modern. :)  
**

**Currently unedited.  
**

**Prompt: My choice. Hehehe. Let's call it... Passion.**

* * *

Mai remembers the day her life came crashing down around her; the day she was certain Zuko was lost to her forever.

* * *

She feels like the burgundy walls of their living room are closing in on her.

It was late and she had been sitting on the sofa tensely, waiting for Zuko to return from work. She sits with just the lamp off, casting odd shadows on her face. She leans with her elbows on her thighs, delicate fingers with chipping nail polish –a nervous habit she thought her mother weaned her off when she was a girl– folded neatly beneath her nose as she glowers at the coffee table. Outside, a storm mirroring the turmoil inside her is relentless. The crashing thunder echoes the presumptions bouncing off the inside of her skull; the flashing, irregular strokes lightning reflect her feelings, sharp and fast throughout her system.

Exhaling shakily, Mai straightens up and reaches for her tea, slowly taking a sip.

Lately, Zuko's late comings haven't exactly been an unusual occurrence. Upon taking over the family company, cleaning up the corporate wreckage Ozai left in his wake would take long. Mai understands that.

The clock that hung on the wall ticks patronizingly, mocking her.

Regardless, Zuko never fails to call home to inform her he'll be arriving late and not to wait up. He usually makes this call early in the evening at around 6:30.

Mai glances at her phone, sitting harmlessly by her side on the sofa. She reaches over and presses a button. The familiar image of a sunburnt passed out Zuko covered in sand and seaweed at the beach lights up, illuminating her face and allowing the crease in her forehead and the frown on her usually impassive face to become visible. Her eyes tighten slightly as the time-stamp glares back at her. _8:57PM._

She taps the screen impatiently, looking at the slightly pixelated lines of his faintly red, but otherwise flawless face. Sighing, she picks up the phone and flips through her contact list until she finds the right number.

"_Aang here_," comes the familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone. He sounds distracted. Mai is rarely on the opposite end when talking to Aang while he works.

"Aang, is Zuko around?" She cuts to the chase, far too agitated to remember her manners.

"_Mai? Oh, hey! Nah, he left a while ago, actually._" Mai's insides ran cold, ice creeping through her system slowly.

"Are you sure?" She implores, grasping the phone tightly in her had while she rises and begins pacing.

"_Yeeeahhh, I saw him leave… is everything okay?"_

Mai's breath stops short before three sharp knocks on the front door calls her attention. For a split second, hope engulfs Mai like the next flash of lightning, before it diminishes just as quickly. Zuko comes in through the garage door and seldom uses the front entrance. She could probably count on one hand the amount of times he used it.

Gathering the remains of her shaky composure, Mai schools her face into an expression of boredom before answering.

Unprepared for the onslaught of rain pelting against her face, she squints her pale gold eyes to focus on the looming figure in her door. _An officer…?_

Quickly ushering the authority figure into the house, she shuts the door and gazes at the man expectantly as his soaked through uniform drips on the dark hardwood flooring. "Can I help you?" She asks drily, though her insides are churning.

"Are you Mrs. Huo?" The officer standing stiffly on her front patio asks, soaked by the pouring rain. He was trying to remain impassive, but failing.

"Yes, what of it?" Mai replies, feigning nonchalance as she leans against the door frame, one arm crossed defensively over her chest while the other hand grips tightly the phone she failed to disconnect. Faintly, she hears Aang's muffled voice calling her name. "_Mai? Mai, are you there? I hear voices—"_

Her stoic expression masks the swirling emotions within her. _What's going on…?_

Unnerved by her posture, the officer tugs the end of his ponytail nervously, his blue eyes scanning the house, looking everywhere except Mai's face. Eventually, he inhales deeply before catching her gaze.

"Your husband is in critical condition in the hospital; he was caught in a high speed collision."

Eyes widening ever so slightly, Mai felt the impact of the phone hitting the hardwood and the battery snapping out as it bounces haphazardly, shutting Aang up.

Mai goes numb.

* * *

_Hydroplaning_.

The officer, Sokka, watches the woman stare blankly ahead of her in the emergency waiting room as the officer explained what had happened. She tugs her turtle necked sweater higher up her neck before crossing her arms over her chest. He watches as she shakes her head, her thin hand coming up to grasp the bridge of her nose.

Her hand is shaking.

This wasn't usually what Sokka was used to dealing with. Tears, he could handle marginally well. Screaming? Sure, why not. Nothing a little touch love couldn't fix. Blatant denial? Bring it.

But this? Shutting down? This wasn't something he'd ever encountered before. Part of him hopes that Mrs. Huo is shutting down and rather than not giving a rat's ass about man fighting for his life on the operating table.

Sokka immediately abolishes the thought. _Of course she cares_. Said man is her husband, after all.

The officer witnessed the ordeal. Mr. Huo had slammed on his breaks after another driver on the highway merged unsafely between lanes, and consequently ended up losing control of the entire vehicle.

His wheels were bald, he later explains to the unresponsive woman beside him.

Mr. Huo had attempted to swerve out of the way to avoid being hit, but also lost control of the car. It was a futile attempt, the oncoming vehicle slammed into the side of his car at unimaginable speeds. The sounds of screeching metal and a crash set apart from the roaring thunder resonate in the officer's mind. He remembers watching in stark horror as the red sedan skid and spun in circles across the highway before flipping over _three times _into a ditch, looking like scrap metal at this point.

The smoke started to emerge from the vehicle and shit went from bad to worse.

A similar fate happened to the other driver. However, he died on spot.

He shudders as the memory flashes through his mind. He looks to the woman and tries to figure out a way to comfort the poor girl.

"Uh, ma'am?" He asks hesitantly. Her eyes snap to his in a glare, though she seems unfocused.

"Yes?" She demands, her eyes hard as steel.

Sokka splutters, a tinge of pink barely appearing on his tanned skin. "Um, well… is there anything I can do to help? Any phone calls I can–"

"You can help by shutting your mouth."

Sokka immediately obeys and focuses on the report he has to fill out.

* * *

She had been waiting for hours.

Turning her phone around in her hands, Mai inhales the antiseptic, sterilized scent that defines a medical facility, then releases it unsteadily. With the shudder still coursing through her, she leans her head against wall, closing her eyes against the florescence that left the waiting room exposed and naked. Her eyes ache and her head throbs in her efforts to prevent the tears from flowing.

_Crying won't help Zuko. You need to be strong._

Mai wants to cry though. She wants so badly to break down and seek solace in another, even though the only person she would expose herself to in such a way was on the brink of life or—

_No, he's going to be fine. He's going to be fine; he's going to be fine, he's-going-to-be-fine_…

She takes another breath, wishing she had some tea to help. Or better, Zuko's uncle, Iroh. He was across the country, travelling and living out his days. Mai doesn't call him yet, she doesn't want to worry the man.

If… If Zuko didn't make it, she would call him. Uncle had already lost a son; he didn't need to relive that pain anytime soon.

_Right, Zuko? Think of Uncle. He would be devastated if you die. You better stay alive. _She tries not to think of what Uncle's reaction whenever she got around to telling him. Surely, he would understand her reasoning...

Mai is startled by her phone coming to life in her hands, vibrating as Aang's name flashed across the screen for the umpteenth time. She chooses not to ignore him this time.

"Hello, Aang." She says, her voice coming out raspier than usual.

"_Finally! I've been trying to get a hold of you f—"_

"I know."

"—_or a while now; oh. Well, what's wrong? You didn't sound okay before,"_

Mai forces out what sounds like a cross between a sob and laugh, her head throbbing as she shakes it slightly.

"Zuko's been in a car accident. He's in surgery now."

Aang is silent. "_Are you at Saint Roku General Hospital?_"

"Yes."

"_Katara and I will be there soon, stay put." _

"Aang, wait,"

"_Yeah?"_

"…Drive safely, okay? It's dangerous out there."

"Y-yeah, of course. I'll see you soon." He hangs up, leaving Mai alone with her thoughts once more.

Mai tries to imagine a world without her husband. They had broken up before, when they were younger and stupid.

_No, Zuko was stupid_. Mai corrects herself, well aware of her feeble attempts to distract herself.

Having him gone from her life permanently is a different matter altogether. She loves him; her husband, best friend, closest confidant.

Mai chokes out a laugh, hunching forward to wrap her arms around her torso. He wasn't allowed to leave her. Not yet. Not until they were old, greying and senile.

A voice suddenly cuts through the silence.

"Mrs. Huo?"

She glances up, eyes widening frantically she stares at the splattering of blood on the surgeon's scrubs. Mai is on her feet in seconds, silently demanding the answer that would change her life irreversibly.

"Yes?" Her voice breaks, and she hates herself for it.

"Your husband's surgery was a success and he is now in a stable condition; however, it's too early to determine his prognosis just yet, but so far, everything looks good."

The relief floods through Mai's system like a gentle wave. It clears away the rough edges of her anxiety, leaving her feeling smooth and pleasantly lethargic.

She gapes as the breath whooshes out of her, leaving her breathless. She stumbles backward and falls back into the chair, positively beaming at the doctor.

Zuko is alive. He's alive. They could cross any hurdle that came their way now, because Zuko was still breathing.

"But," the doctor starts, catching Mai's attention. "His injuries are serious. A fire from the accident caused major third-degree burns to the left side of his face. We've done all we can, but we don't know how his vision will be until he wakes up. Whiplash from the impact also caused him sever neck injuries and he will need physical therapy to some extent. Zuko will be kept under watch to ensure an infection doesn't occur. He's suffered a punctured lung from the impact breaking multiple ribs…"

Mai listens intently as the woman who saved her husband's life continued to list off his many injuries. She's already figured that it will be a long road to recovery, but she's more than prepared to aid him along the way.

"…luckily, his airbag system and safety belt prevented much worse damage from occurring…"

Mai feels like rolling her eyes. Zuko never used to wear his seatbelt; she had to kick the habit into him. She'd have a bone to pick with him when he woke up, for making her worry so much.

"…we doubt there will be brain damage, but again. It's too early to tell. However, he was conscious upon arriving. Lucid, even. He was speaking in sentences."

Mai looks up, happy-tears glistening in her eyes. "Did he say anything coherent?"

The doctor's blue eyes twinkle as smiles. "Are you Mai?"

"Yes."

"He kept asking for you."

A smile tugs Mai's lips as she stands up again. "He's going to be okay?" She whispers, twisting her wedding band.

The doctor falters slightly, wanting to reassure the young woman, but not wanting to accidently give false hope, either. "Like I said, it's too early to say for sure, but as of now, things are looking pretty good. Would you like to see him?"

"Yes, take me to him, please."

* * *

Upon arriving to his room, Mai's buoyant happiness leaves in nearly an instant.

Zuko looks… awful.

He lies down, slightly elevated on the hospital bed, his arms over the blankly laying neatly by his side. His skin is pierced with multiple intravenous lines, delivering fluids and medication into his system.

His pale skin is sickly, appearing nearly greyish against the pristine white sheets. Attached to him are various tubes and IVs. The breathing tube shoved deep down his throat looks anything but comfortable, but she hopes Zuko is blissfully unaware in his medically induced coma.

His head's been shaved, most likely to prevent an infection from occurring around the burn Mai has yet to witness. The bandages covering his face are fresh and wrap around nearly the entire upper part of his skull.

Oh, what Mai would give to see those golden eyes open.

She delicately sits down on the chair next to the head of the bed and gently takes his hand in hers, being careful to avoid the lines. She revels in the unnatural warmth his skin radiates, even in his fragile condition.

His heart monitor beeps steadily, indicating his survival, but it's the gentle rise and fall of his chest that comforts Mai the most.

Leaning her head forward on his pillow, she lets the tears fall, breathing shakily.

"Zuko, you idiot." She whispers, stroking an exposed spot on his scalp gently.

The monitor beeps in response.

"I love you," she says, even quieter. She's still scared, still worried and still anxious, but counting his breaths helps her calm her frazzled nerves.

He is alive, he will wake up, and he will heal. It will be a long-suffering process, but Mai promises to make sure he takes care of himself. After all, she did vow to support him in sickness and in health.


End file.
